Strawberry Cough Syrup
by tokyolove
Summary: They may be superheroes, but they're not immune to everything. Set sometime in season 2, no specific episode. LL/SG. Oneshot.


This took way longer than I was hoping. I began writing it last Friday night and was hoping to have it up by Saturday evening. Unfortunately, this is based on true events and I haven't been well enough to finish it. I'm still sick but at least it's up now!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Legion of Superheroes. I wish I did, but I don't.

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The holographic clock on the wall blinked 3:32 am and Lightning Lad yawned as he padded down the corridor. He had snuck out of his room to grab a drink and had wanted to be as quiet as possible. The Legionnaires all needed a good night's sleep after the mission they had gotten back from earlier that evening and he didn't want to be responsible for waking any of them up. It had been a hard one and pushed them all to their limits, but they had returned successful, albeit a little battered and bruised.

As he poured himself a glass of milk and leaned against the counter, downing the glass quickly and wiping his mouth roughly on the sleeve of his organic arm, he was distracted by a noise. It didn't come from any of the bedrooms but instead came from the opposite direction, where the Legion offices were located. Curious, and concerned by the possibility that someone may have slipped in undetected, he put the glass down and went to investigate, moving quietly once again. If it was an intruder he didn't want to scare them off by being too loud.

There it was again, the same noise. This time it was more discernible, it sounded human and almost like a bark. As he rounded the corridor to the main control room he heard it again and he paused in the doorway. He had found the source of the noise and it brought a sympathetic smile to his face.

Sat at Computo was Saturn Girl, buried under a mountain of papers and tissues. She hadn't changed out of her uniform since the mission, the pink and white suit was still covered with dust and dirt and her blonde hair was messed up. She had her back to him but he saw her shoulders shake as she coughed. There was the noise he had heard in the kitchen, Imra's harsh bark-like cough. Garth pouted. His girlfriend was sick and was trying to deal with it on her own, which was typical of the Titanian. She was stubborn and independent and hated asking for help.

Remaining as quiet as possible, Garth stepped forward until he was directly behind her. His hands touched her shoulders and gently began to rub circles over her tense muscles. As the current leader of the Legion she had been working herself hard, taking it upon herself to figure out everything that was going on and to find the Legion of Super Villains. No one had noticed that she hadn't been feeling well and Garth felt bad. He of all people should have noticed something was wrong.

The telepath relaxed back into her chair when she felt his hands begin their massage. She didn't need to look to see who it was; the touch was familiar as were the stray thoughts she caught from him. His metal hand continued its movements while the organic one slipped up, moving her fringe out of the way to rest itself on her forehead.

"Imra you're burning up." His voice was soft and she only nodded in response.

Pulling her chair back, he moved in front of her and began to clear the desk. He stacked all the papers up into a pile and shut down Computo, picking up the waste bin to scoop all of the tissues into it. It was then that he got a look at her and his guilt at not noticing sooner doubled. She was paler than usual, a ghostly white, her pink eyes had a red tint to them, her make up had run and her nose was red. She didn't look like the Imra he knew, the one who always made sure she was presentable. She looked exhausted and worn out, as though she had given up. Saturn Girl had never been one to give up on anything.

She protested at him tidying everything she had been doing away.

"Garth, I'm busy…"

Her voice was nothing more than a croak and he smirked, shaking his head.

"No you're not. You're going to bed. C'mon, up!"

Instead of letting her stand up for herself, he simply scooped her up off the chair. Surprisingly she didn't protest further, she just curled herself into his arms, her head resting against his shoulder. She closed her eyes and let him carry her back to her room, only moving her arm down to punch in her code on the keypad next to the door. Before she knew it she was on her bed, sinking into the comfortable sheets.

She was dozing in and out of sleep when she felt a tug on her clothes. Blinking open her bleary pink eyes she saw Garth tugging at her uniform and swatted his arm away in protest, believing him to be trying to get in her pants. Like he had the night before and a few nights before that.

"Not now Garth. Later. We can do that later."

Her words were detached and drawn out in a whiny drawl and her lips pouted at him. He just smirked and shook his head.

"No, Im, I'm not trying anything like that. You can't sleep in this, it's filthy and uncomfortable. Just let me handle it, okay?"

A sluggish nod and an incoherent murmur was all he got in reply, so he assumed that changing his girlfriend out of her uniform was okay. Lifting her so that she was slumped over his organic arm, he used his robotic one to unzip and peel off her pink and white catsuit. It was easier said than done but eventually it was off and folded into the laundry. He had to avert his eyes and look only at her face, for now she was in nothing but a lace bra and matching panties, creamy white skin on display.

Imra let out a quiet snort and opened her eyes to look at him, having heard his thought of: 'No, no, no. Not tonight she's sick… but damn I always did love that underwear on her.' He just smirked back with a shrug. He was a guy with a healthy libido; it was natural to think like that, although he felt stupid for letting his shield down.

Usually she slept in a pink and white vest and pants set but Garth had no idea on where she kept it and, despite being her boyfriend, he didn't feel comfortable rummaging through her drawers until he found it. Instead, he lowered her back down onto the bed and let her watch as he peeled his own shirt off. Her lips parted, about to scold him for thinking sexually again, but he shook his head and hovered back over her.

"We're not doing that tonight, I just want you to be comfortable. I don't know where you keep your pjs, so I figured…"

He motioned to the shirt and she smiled a bit, pushing herself up and helping him pull it over her head and slide her arms through the holes. It was a blue-grey and smelled like him. Imra flopped back down, comforted in the new feeling of having him close without him physically being beside her. The shirt hung from her tiny frame but she didn't care, and just settled into her bed sheets, her eyes closed once again. She heard him say something but didn't register what it was, not hearing the door open and then close as he left.

Heading back to his room, Lightning Lad pulled on another shirt and went to his bathroom. The cupboard above the sink was full of essentials, including the standard cold and flu medicines. Despite being from Winath, these human medicines had always worked on him because he was humanoid. Technically he was an alien, but his body was the same as a human's. He hoped the same would apply to Imra. She was from Titan, one of Saturn's moons, but was biologically the same as a human. Gathering everything he had into a bag, he returned to the telepath's bedroom to find her asleep on top of the sheets.

Her seemingly peaceful sleep didn't last long, however, as she bolted to sit up, coughing so hard that her body shook and her eyes watered. Garth dropped the bag instantly and moved to lean behind her, rubbing her back with slow circular movements and handing her a glass of water from the side table when she was done.

"You okay?"

All she could do was nod her head and croak out a small yes.

"I got you some medicine, it works for humans so I'm guessing it'll work on you. If not then you'll just have to deal with the icky taste."

He smirked with a playful wink, managing to bring a small smile to her face.

"You take such good care of me."

Leaning down, he kissed the top of her blonde head and reached for the bag.

"Only because I love you. Now, let's see what we've got in here."

He rummaged in the bag as she peeked in curiously and Garth noticed that, despite only having managed to get an hour of sleep at the most, she was already looking a bit better. She wasn't as pale.

He pulled out a red bottle.

"This is for your cough."

Next followed a pink bottle.

"This is for any nausea."

Then came a brown bottle.

"Fever reducer, you were burning earlier."

And finally he produced a small box of pills.

"Some painkillers, just in case."

Imra reached forward for the red bottle, unscrewing the cap and picking up the little spoon Garth had also produced from the bag. Pouring out a spoonful, she drank it and grimaced at the taste before examining the label.

"That tastes nothing like a strawberry. I don't know what strawberries these people have been eating but seriously!"

He couldn't help but laugh. The laughter was contagious and set Imra off, but she just ended up doubled over coughing again. Garth was immediately behind her, rubbing her back again in an attempt to soothe her heaves.

Imra hated this. She wasn't a weak person, she was always strong and she prided herself on her independence. To need help for something as trivial as the flu felt as though she was undermining herself. Being in a relationship with Garth for the past few months had made her realise that occasionally, it was okay to need someone to help. So she reluctantly gave in, leaning back against his muscular chest after she had finished.

His arms wrapped around her protectively and his chin rested on top of her head. She sighed and closed her eyes. In any other circumstances it would have been a perfect moment.

"What am I thinking?"

It was a question he often asked her when they shared moments like these together. She had always found it romantic, the way he asked it in that sultry, husky tone of voice and the way he leaned in and murmured it against her ear, his warm breath against her skin.

Imra would always oblige and answer him after probing a little. The principle was against the teachings of Titan and normally she wouldn't have dared, but because it was him asking, she didn't mind. Focusing her mind, she tried to read his.

"I can't. All I can get is static, like someone's switched it off or something. So either I'm not working or you're not thinking anything. Either's possible, I always assumed there was nothing but hot air under that ponytail."

He frowned and ignored her teasing about his lack of thought. She was a tenth level telepath, the highest rank a telepath could reach, and she couldn't read his mind? His organic hand reached up and cupped her forehead.

"No wonder, I think your brain's burned up."

She let out a small chuckle and nodded.

"It feels that way. It feels like it's overheated and someone's pulled the plug. Brain suicide."

He reached for the fever reducer and spooned some out, holding it to her lips and tipping it into her mouth when she opened. Garth then leaned back against her bed, propped up on her many pillows, pulling her with him. They fell asleep that way, Imra curled up in his arms, Garth snoring into her pillow.

When he awoke, his girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. The light was on in the bathroom, he could see the strip of white shining out from under the closed door, so he assumed she was in there. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, wanting to go and check on her in case she was leaning over the toilet puking her guts up, but he felt odd. Sluggish.

The door opened and Imra padded out in nothing but a short white towel that only just covered her body, her long blonde hair hanging wet around her shoulders. She looked as though she had made a miraculous recovery. Garth on the other hand wasn't feeling too great. He groaned in realisation.

"Morning. Thank you for taking care of me last night. It turns out it was just one of those twenty-four hour bugs, not the flu." She smiled as she caught one of his stray thoughts. "It looks like I'll be returning the favour today. I think I may have passed it on. Get back under the sheets and relax. You've got the day off, leader's orders."

With a smile, she pulled on a pink robe and sat on the edge of the bed. Reaching for the bag he had brought in the night before, she rummaged in it. Where was that bottle of strawberry cough syrup…


End file.
